Children of Watership Down
by Book girl fan
Summary: The various adventures in the Downs We Go universe, mostly focusing around Watership Down and its inhabitants. Crossposted from AO3.
1. The Shining Trap

On some level, Cowslip knows that this is wrong. He doesn't admit it, even to himself, will never let anyone see, but he knows. Children should not have to live in constant fear of being threat one the men take away, because the men do take them away. Oh, never too blatantly, never too obviously; more like a silent disappearance in the middle of the night. One day someone is there, the next they are gone.

Cowslip never lets himself think where they might have gone to, and he won't let anyone else think about it either. That's why no mentioning their name, no looking at their work, nothing. It's better if they never had existed. That's what Cowslip tells himself, anyway, and sometimes, it even sounds convincing.

It's not like they live a bad life. There's food, as much as they can eat, and time to do whatever they want. Painting, sculpting, gardening, anything at all. There's just one thing that all of them know they should never do: never go walking in the garden. That's where the monsters hide, great steel cages that will trap them in and pits that will snare them and take them away, out of sight, out of mind, out of memory. The traps don't stay still, gathering wherever the children gather, especially if someone finds a quiet spot to them self, especially if they're pretty. The pretty ones go first, Cowslip knows, and he never lets himself think why.

Once the men have them, wherever the men have them, whyever the men have them, they will never, ever, be coming back. What matters most to Coswlip, is that it's not him.


	2. New Beginnings

That night, after dinner was finished, Mr Frith took them on a tour of the house, finishing with the bedrooms. "I'm afraid there's not enough for you each to have your own, so you'll have to decide who will be sharing. Decide quickly, please, or you'll get no sleep tonight. Now, goodnight boys, and sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."

As Mr Frith left, Hazel turned to look at them all. "There's plenty of rooms, so pick which you want, and who you'll share with. Only rule, you have to share with someone. No one sleeps alone, alright?"

The boys nodded then raced off, running ahead to get the best room. Fiver turned to his brother. "You'll share with me, won't you Hazel?"

Hazel smiled at him, ruffling his hair. "Who else would I share with? Come on, little brother, let's pick a room before they're all taken." Fiver laughed, then pushed Hazel's hand away to run ahead, flitting from door to door, Hazel following after. As he walked, he heard the various arguments and discussions the other boys were having.

"Hey, Dan, look at the side of this room!"

"Silver, do you want to share with me?"

"Um, is there any room which is just a single room?"

"No one by themselves, Strawberry, remember what Hazel said?"

"Can I share with Hazel?"

"Sorry, lad, Hazel's probably sharing with Fiver. You can stay with me, though, if you'd like?"

"Yes, Bigwig, that'd be great!"

"No need to squeeze that hard, kid!"

"I'll share with you, Strawberry."

"You really wouldn't mind?"

"Hey look, Acorn, come here!"

"Acorn, come on! There's room for all three of us in here!"

"I'm coming!"

"What about this one, Bigwig? Oh, look at this one! Bigwig, this one has a pretty window in it! Can we have this one?"

"Settle down, Pipkin! If you want this one, we can take this one."

"Is this one alright, Silver?"

"I don't mind, Strawberry. Pick whichever."

Gradually, the ruckus died down, as the boys divided up and picked their rooms. Fiver had found himself and his brother a reasonably sized room with a large window overseeing the gate. From there, anyone who came to the house would be immediately visible. Even now, the moonlight was shining down, lighting up the front gate. "Good choice, Fiver," Hazel said, beaming proudly at his brother. "Now that we've chosen our room, time to go to bed, okay?"

Fiver nodded, jumping onto the bed closest from the door and wriggling under the covers. Lying there, covers pulled up to his chin, he asked, "Hazel?"

"Yeah?"

"You aren't going to leave, are you?"

"No, we're all staying, remember, Fiver?" Hazel sat cross legged on the other bed, watching the lights coming from the other rooms blink out one by one."We talked about it this afternoon, don't you remember?"

"Not like that, Hazel! You won't go, like mummy went, will you?"

Hazel turned to look at his brother, mouth opening in surprised comprehension. "Fiver, why would you think that?"

"Because we were in a house, like this one, and we were sharing a room, like now, and then I had a dream and they were gone!"Fiver's eyes started to fill with tears, causing him to pull his arms out from under the covers to scrub at them roughly. "I don't want to dream like that, Hazel. When we were outside, and you were right there, it was okay, but now we're in a house again, and you're on the other side of the room again, and I don't want it to all happen again!"

Hazel jumped off his bed and crossed to the other side of the room, to sit on his little brother's bed, one hand on his shoulder, looking him in the eye. "I told you I would always stay with you, Fiver, and I will. I'm not going to leave you."

Fiver held his brother's gaze for a long moment, then gave a little nod, apparently pacified.

"Think you can sleep now?" Hazel asked. In answer, Fiver pulled his blankets up again and closed his eyes. Before long, his breathing had evened out in sleep. Hazel watched him for a moment, then walked back to his own bed, whispering, "Goodnight, Fiver."


	3. A Sick Little Bunny

"Bigwig?" Pipkin whispered, shaking the older boy's shoulder. "Bigwig, Hazel isn't waking up. Fiver and I don't know what to do, Bigwig."

Bigwig batted Pipkin's hand away, not opening his eyes. "It's still early, Pipkin. Who would want to wake up at this hour?"

"Hazel does! He always wakes up when we bounce on the bed, always! But this time he isn't. What do we do, Bigwig?"

Finally, something in Pipkin's voice got through to Bigwig, and he blearily opened his eyes, turning over to look at the distraught boy. "He's probably just tired, Pipkin. He was out for hours yesterday, remember?" Bigwig certainly did.

For some reason, Hazel had decided that spending three hours outside in the rain was a wonderful idea, and had returned dripping wet and shivering, whereupon Bigwig had yelled at him for being an idiot until the other boys had come running to find out what was going on. Even then, Hazel refused to say a word of what he had been doing to be out in the rain so long, and Bigwig had known better than to try and call him out on it in front of the others.

Pipkin shaking his shoulder again jogged Bigwig from his memory. "It's not like that, Bigwig! Hazel always wakes up, always, even when he's been playing with us all day! Now he won't, he's not waking up!"

"Fine, I'll check it out," Bigwig relented, reluctantly pulling the covers back and getting out of bed. "But I'm telling you, I'll probably walk in there and Hazel will already be awake telling you you shouldn't have bothered. And then I'll be going back to bed, and you-" He walked into the room Hazel and Fiver shared and stopped short.

Hazel had not woken up. In fact, he looked very far from awake in that moment, tossing and turning, his cheeks bright with fever. Fiver was curled up next to him on the bed, looking frantic, trying to talk him into waking up, but it didn't appear to be having any effect.

"Quickly," Bigwig snapped, hurrying over to the bed. "Pipkin, get Mr Frith. Fiver, wet a cloth or something. He's too hot, we need to cool him down."

Pipkin nodded fearfully and raced off. Fiver stayed where he was, eyes not moving off his brother's flushed face.

"Fiver!" Bigwig shouted. "Pull it together, would you? We need to get Hazel cooled down now!"

"What's wrong with Hazel?" Dandelion asked. Somehow, without Bigwig noticing, Dandelion and Acorn had woken up and started standing in the doorway.

"He's sick, that's what," Bigwig snapped. "Either help or go back to bed, you're no use standing around." He looked more closely at them. "Where's Blackberry? He normally knows all kind of stuff, doesn't he?"

Acorn rolled his eyes. "Good luck getting Blackberry up this early. He doesn't just sleep like a rock, he sleeps like the entire cliff!"

"Acorn's right, he'll never wake up-"Seeing Bigwig open his mouth to yell some more, Dandelion hastily continued, "-but we'll do our best. Come on Acorn, let's go." He left, dragging an unwilling Acorn after him.

"What if he's dying?" Fiver whispered. Bigwig turned back to him to see him still lying beside Hazel on the bed, looking at his brother's flushed face. "He promised he wouldn't leave me, Hazel, you promised you wouldn't leave."

Bigwig put a hand in the boy's shoulder. "He's not dying, Fiver, he's too stubborn for that. Besides, he'd never leave you alone. You just need to help him get better, so everything can go back to normal."

Fiver nodded, finally taking his eyes off his brother to look up at Bigwig. "What should I do?"

"Get some cloths, wet ones. He's too hot, we need to cool him down."

Fiver nodded again, running to the bathroom. Bigwig stayed by the bed, starting to strip back the blankets in an attempt to cool Hazel down.

"F'v'r? C'ld," Hazel mumbled, the first sign of awareness Bigwig had heard from him since he entered the room.

"It's Bigwig, Hazel," Bigwig told him. "Wake up now, mate, you're scaring the little ones."

Hazel frowned faintly. "T'r'd. C'ld." He tugged ineffectually at the blankets. "F'v'r?"

Fiber came back into the room, carrying some wet cloths. As soon as he saw his brother was at least semi-conscious, however, he raced over to the bed, dumping the cloths by the bed as he got on the bed beside his brother. "Hazel? Hazel, wake up!"

Hazel's frown deepened. "Fiv'r? You 'kay?" He tossed his head as though looking for his brother.

Fiver shook his head frantically. "I'm not okay, Hazel, wake up!" In reply, Hazel tossed and turned more, though still did not open his eyes. Fiver turned to Bigwig, tears in his eyes. "Why won't he wake up?"

"He's sick, Fiver, he's got a fever. That's what we need these cloths for!" He held one up as an example. Fiver's mouth opened in an 'o' of understanding, and he quickly grabbed one of the cloths and started scrubbing his brother's forehead with it. "No, not like that!" Bigwig took the cloth back and showed Fiver how to hold it properly. "Do it like this. This'll cool him down in no time."

They worked for a few moments in silence, then Hazel started to shiver. "T-too c-c-cold."

Fiver pulled his cloth away, but Bigwig kept on, determined. "Sorry, Hazel. It's for the best."

Hazel's eyes opened slightly, just enough to see a slit of brown. "Why's it s-so c-c-cold, B-Bigw-wig?"

"You're sick, mate. We're trying to cool you down."

"Sick? Who's sick? Fiver 'kay?" Hazel didn't seem to comprehend anything beyond someone being sick. His struggles, which had ceased earlier, had now begun anew as Hazel tried to find who was sick. "Pipk'n? Dan'lion? Stra'b'ry?"

"They're all fine, idiot," Bigwig growled. "You're the one who's sick, probably from being out in the rain yesterday. Now calm down before you make yourself worse."

Hazel nodded faintly, eyes slipping closed again as he relaxed back into sleep.

"He's asleep again, Bigwig!" Fiver sounded frantic.

"Don't worry, he needs the rest, Fiver. Just keep going with the cloths." Fiver nodded, and they both continued, trying to cool Hazel's raging fever down.

Just a few minutes later, Pipkin raced to the room, followed by Frith. "How is young Hazel?" Frith asked worriedly.

"He's sick, sir. He's got a fever and won't wake up. Even when he does, he doesn't really make sense. I tried wet cloths, but they don't seem to help much." Bigwig looked away from Hazel towards Frith. "What else can we do?"

Frith thought for a moment, then nodded determinedly. "We have to cool him down somehow, so we'll try an ice bath. Pipkin, can you start filling the bath? Cold water please, as cold as you can get it. Fiver, go downstairs and get some ice. Do try not to wake Miss Hannah, she won't appreciate it. Bigwig, stay close. I might need your help."

As the younger boys raced off to do the tasks they were assigned, Fiver lingering for a moment before realising doing what he was told would help his brother best, Frith strode over to the bed and lifted Hazel up, blankets falling down around him. Carrying the sick boy, he made his way to the bathroom, Bigwig following behind in case he needed to help.

Bigwig had forgotten how small Hazel actually was. He was the one that had led them all safely to Watership Down, kept them together in face of disaster, and still managed to look after them all now. Somehow, with all that, it was easy to forget he was still just eleven years old, and even a bit small for his age. Seeing him now, however, trembling feverishly in Frith's arms, he still looked like a child.

They got to the bathroom without incident, and Frith carefully placed Hazel in the tub. To Bigwig's surprise, as soon as he touched the cold water, Hazel began to thrash and moan, twisting from side to side in an attempt to escape. However, Frith held him in the icy water, and soon the thrashing turned into shivering, and the moans grew softer, until they could barely be heard at all.

Bigwig forced his eyes away from Hazel's shivers, and caught sight of Fiver standing in the corner, looking at his shivering brother with something close to horror on his face. "Don't worry, Fiver," he said, going over to the boy and wrapping an arm around him. "It'll be alright. Hazel's tough, he'll get through this just fine, you'll see."

Fiver nodded dully, but he still hadn't taken his eyes off his older brother. "He'll be fine," he whispered. "He'll be fine."

Bigwig just nodded, not sure what else to do.

Fortunately, it was only a few minutes later that Frith lifted Hazel out of the bath and took him back to the bedroom, Bigwig and Fiver following closely behind. Frith carefully tucked Hazel into bed, then turned to the other two, motioning for then to be quiet. "The fever's broken," he whispered. "He just needs rest now. Fiver, how about you share with Pipkin and Bigwig tonight?"

Fiver crossed his arms and shook his head mutinously. "No. I'm sleeping in here, with Hazel."

"Fiver, your brother needs sleep. Can't you spend just this one night-" Seeing Fiver's steadfast scowl, Frith stopped. "Alright then Fiver, just go to bed, and try not to wake Hazel."

Fiver's scowl disappeared instantly as he scrambled back into the bedroom and under the sheets. From the look on his face, though, Bigwig was pretty sure Fiver would be curled up next to his brother seconds after they left.

It seemed Frith recognized it too, as he opened his mouth as if to say something, then sighed. "Sleep well, Fiver, I'll see you in a couple of hours for breakfast."

For a moment, Bigwig was confused. All that, and it wasn't even breakfast time? Then he glanced out the window and saw the sun lifting over the horizon, the sky streaked with red. It really was that early.

"-wig, you can go to bed as well," Bigwig heard Frith saying.

"I'd really rather sleep in here with Hazel and Fiver," Bigwig tried, but Frith shook his head.

"No, Bigwig, it's enough that Fiver is in there, two of you is too much disturbance. Go back to bed, in your own room."

Bigwig nodded unhappily and headed back to his room. Walking in, he saw that Pipkin's bed was empty, and the little boy was curled up in the middle of his bed instead, holding the blankets tightly even in his sleep, eyes red-rimmed and damp. Sighing wearily, Bigwig decided it wasn't worth the bother of trying to move Pipkin back into his own bed, and instead just lay down beside the boy. After all, he probably wouldn't sleep anyway, with all this excitement and... Bigwig's eyes slipped closed, and he was asleep before he realised it.

A few hours later, Bigwig was woken by the feeling of fine strands of something tickling his nose. His eyes slowly blinking open, he saw a little head of blond hair curled up next to him on the bed. Pipkin had gradually moved closer during the last few hours, and now was cuddled up against him, one hand fisted in the older boy's shirt.

Carefully, Bigwig began to ease Pipkin's fingers away from his shirt. Pipkin murmured in his sleep as his hand was uncurled, but thankfully did not wake up. Soon Bigwig could ease himself out of the bed, and did so gladly, before walking to the door. With one final glance at the little blond asleep on his bed, he left the room, carefully shutting the door behind him.

Bigwig made his way next door to the room Fiver and Hazel shared. Cracking open the door, he peered inside. The first thing that caught his eye was the empty bed closest to the door. As he had thought, Fiver had not stayed in his bed for long. Cracking the door open a bit further, he saw a pair of blue, nearly purple eyes glaring sleepily at him from under the blankets on the other bed. "Go away," Fiver whispered, head peeking out from under the blankets. Despite the soft tone, his words carried easily through the quiet room. "You're not s'posed to wake him."

"I don't want to wake him, I just want to see how he's doing," Bigwig whispered back.

Fiver seemed to consider this for a moment. "If I let you come in, will you be really quiet and not wake him up?"

Bigwig nodded, forgoing mentioning just how unlikely it would be that Fiver would actually be able to stop him if he decided to go in. Fiver hesitated a moment more, then told him to come in.

Bigwig came in, settling on the bed beside the brothers. Looking closer, he saw Fiver looked anxious and on edge, as well as strangely guilty, as though he had forgotten to do something important. "What's the matter with you, kid?" Fiver looked down, but Bigwig shook his shoulder until their eyes met again. "What's wrong, Fiver?"

"It's my fault,"Fiver said softly, eyes tearing away from Bigwig's. "I should have seen it, I should have known! Hazel got sick because of me."

"Now, none of that." Bigwig awkwardly laid a hand on Fiver's shoulder. "I don't know how your visions work, but I know they don't work like that. You can't have known Hazel was going to get sick, and it isn't your fault. If it's anyone's, it's his own, for staying out in the rain like an idiot."

Fiver gave a little smile at that final sentence, moving himself a bit further into Bigwig's half hug. "Last year it was so wet, an' when Hazel an' I played in the mud puddles, Mummy said we were browner than the chocolate chips in her cookies."

For a moment it looked as though Fiver might cry, remembering his mother, but he was distracted by a croaky voice saying, "Then she made us wash off before dinner, or we'd be having mud for dessert."Hazel smiled at his brother, then let out an 'oof' as Fiver hugged him tight. "I'm alright," he said once he could breathe again. "I'm fine, Fiver, you can let go of me."

Fiver let go just long enough to tell him sternly, "You are never allowed to be sick again," then went back to hugging his brother, though slightly less tightly than before.  
Bigwig just sat back, feeling slightly awkward at the obvious show of affection in front of him. Finally, Fiver seemed contented that his brother was indeed better, and he snuggled up happily beside his brother, still not fully letting go, but holding on more loosely. Hazel took advantage of this to look at Bigwig, wordlessly telling him, 'thank you'. Bigwig wasn't sure what Hazel was thanking him for, but he nodded in acceptance anyway.

Now that he wasn't so concerned about Hazel, Bigwig noticed that he was feeling rather hungry. Standing up from the bed, he said, "I'll just go get some breakfast, shall I? Don't suppose either of you want to come?"

"Fiver, why don't you go with Bigwig to get breakfast?" Hazel suggested. "I'll probably just fall asleep again, you might as well get yourself some food."

Fiver reluctantly nodded, and he and Bigwig made their way to the door. Just before leaving, however, Hazel called out, "Fiver!" Fiver turned around and Hazel fixed him with a serious look. "Remember, this was not your fault. You can't see everything."

Fiver smiled at him. "Okay, Hazel. I'll remember."

Bigwig rolled his eyes, exasperated, and perhaps a little relieved. Hadn't he just been telling the kid that? Well, as long as someone could get it through his head, he supposed it didn't matter much who did it. He slung an arm over Fiver's shoulders, dwarfing the smaller boy. "Come on, let's get some breakfast."


	4. But Why?

Hazel made it downstairs for dinner that night, and in a few days, it was like he'd never been sick. However, it was a full week later before they found out why Hazel had been out so long that day, and why he wouldn't tell anyone where he had been.

It seemed like an ordinary day. They'd all spent the morning studying, with the professor there to help them as necessary. In the afternoon, after they had finished eating lunch, they went outside, as they had done nearly every day since they came. The only difference seemed to be Fiver's bad mood, which none of them could figure out the cause of, and neither Hazel nor Fiver seemed inclined to say anything.

"You can tell us, Fiver," Dandelion said. "What's the matter?"

"You're not still upset about Hazel getting sick, are you?" Bigwig asked. "Because we've told you, that wasn't your fault."

"Why would it be Fiver's fault?" Blackberry frowned. "We were pushing him and Pipkin on the swings that whole afternoon, he couldn't have had anything to do with Hazel being sick."

"I know that!" Fiver crossed his arms and frowned at them all. "It's not about that."

"Then what's it about?" Acorn asked. "You might as well tell us, we aren't going to stop asking."

"I told you, I don't want to tell you!" Fiver shouted.

Hazel sighed. "Leave Fiver alone, okay? If he doesn't want to tell you, he doesn't have to."

Grudgingly, the other boys left the brothers alone, and went back to their games. Hazel and Fiver sat down together in the grass. "You can tell them, you know. They'd like to celebrate with you."

"I don't want them to," Fiver said softly. "Everything's different now. If Mummy and Daddy aren't here, I don't want to do anything."

"Not even this?" Hazel brought a medium sized stone out of his pocket, smooth, flat, and with a band of wilting blue flowers around it. He took the band of flowers off the stone, and slipped it on to his brother's wrist. "I couldn't quite manage a crown," he said sheepishly, not looking his brother in the eyes. "It took a while just to find the flowers, and then it was starting to rain, so-"

He was broken off by two arms wrapping him around the waist. "Thank you, Hazel," Fiver said, voice muffled from how his face was squished against Hazel's shirt, but smile still clearly audible.

Hazel smiled, returning the hug. "Happy birthday, eight year old."

"Wait, it's his birthday?"

The brothers turned around, startled. It seemed, while they were caught in their conversation, the others had quieted enough to listen in on what they were saying. At least, they had been quiet, until Dandelion broke it.

Now that their ruse was up, the others began asking questions as well.

"Why didn't you tell us it was your birthday?" Blackberry asked, looking upset.

"Yeah, we would have thrown you a party and everything," Acorn chimed in.

"Wait, he's only eight?" Strawberry asked incredulously. "I thought he was older than that! I mean, I knew he looked like a little kid, but he's really only eight?"

Strawberry's question went ignored, however, as Bigwig asked, "Is that why you were out in the rain last week, Hazel?"

Hazel winced, hoping Fiver hadn't heard that. Unfortunately for him, Fiver had heard, and now was looking at him with an expression midway between fear and fury. "Hazel, is that true? You stayed out in the rain looking for my birthday present?"

Hazel didn't answer, so Bigwig did instead. "Yeah, he did. Your clever brother here decided to stay out in the rain for three hours last week, and he wouldn't tell me what for!" He glared at Hazel, then noticed Hazel wasn't looking at him, but was rather looking almost guiltily at Fiver. Turning to look at Fiver as well, Bigwig saw the expression of mixed anger and guilt on Fiver's face.

"Hazel! You shouldn't have done that, not for a birthday present!" Fiver growled.

Hazel looked contrite for a moment, then shook his head, his expression hardening into one of resolve. "Yes, I should have, Fiver. I wanted you to have a good birthday." Rubbing the back of his neck, he continued, "Maybe staying out in the rain that long wasn't a good idea, but," he met Fiver's eyes again, "it was worth it."

The moment was preserved for only a few seconds, before Strawberry repeated, "You're really only eight?"


	5. Storytime

"Silver," Strawberry began one quiet afternoon, as he and Silver were dusting in the library, "do you mind me being here?"

The older boy looked at him curiously. "No. You're helping."

Strawberry shook his head, not looking at him. "No, I mean here, with you guys. Is it okay that I came with you?"'

Silver looked at him in confusion, making Strawberry sigh, shaking his head. "Never mind, it's not important."

"If it wasn't important, you wouldn't have said it," Silver reasoned. "So what did you mean?"

"I just meant-" Strawberry started. "Just, you guys are close, and have obviously known each other for ages, while I don't know anything about you! I didn't even know Fiver's only eight! I just tagged along because I wanted to get away from Cowslip." He looked down, slightly embarrassed to have revealed so much.

A moment later, he was shocked to have two arms wrap around him. "We like you being here, Strawberry. You're part of the family now. Even if you haven't known us long, you've been there when it counted."

"Yeah, but-" Strawberry squirmed out of the hug to face Silver. "I only met you guys a couple of weeks ago!"

Silver shrugged. "Bigwig's the only one I've known for long. The others, I've only really known them a bit longer than you." Seeing the shock on Strawberry's face, he grinned. "Ask them. I think you'd be surprised." Turning back to his cleaning, he missed the look of resolve that overtook Strawberry's face. Yes, he would ask them! He began dusting the shelves again, deciding that as soon as his chores were finished, he was going to go corner Blackberry and ask him some questions. After all, he snorted, they couldn't really have known each other for such a short time as Silver had said!

"Hey Blackberry!"

Blackberry turned around as Strawberry skidded to a stop beside him. "Hey, Strawberry. Something wrong?"

Strawberry fiddled with his glasses, taking them off and cleaning them before putting them back on again. "No, I just wanted to ask you something."

Blackberry looked at him expectantly, making the taller boy squirm. "Just, I haven't known you guys very long, right? So I just wanted to ask, how long have you known each other?"

Blackberry chewed his lip, considering it. "I've known Acorn since he came to the orphanage when I was seven, but we weren't really friends until Dandelion came eight months later. Bigwig was around for most of that time, but he was Owsla. Silver had only been there about a year when we left, and Hazel and Fiver only four months." He smiled. "It's weird, thinking we've known each other such a short time. Feels like I've known them forever now."

Strawberry gaped at him. "Four months? I thought you must have known each other for ages! Wait-" He frowned, adjusting his glasses. "Did you say orphanage?"

The shorter boy looked at him, puzzled. "Uh, yeah. We're all orphans. We ran away from the orphanage together."

"You were in an orphanage? And then you ran off with kids you just said you barely knew?" Strawberry' mouth dropped open again. "But why?"

Blackberry smiled sheepishly. "It sounds crazy when you put it like that."

"Because it is."

"Maybe, but it made sense at the time, and it landed us here, so it can't be too bad. Look, I'm really not the best one to ask this story, I'm more of a facts guy than fables. Ask Dandelion, he'd never pass up the chance to tell a story."

"And then, from the treetops, we saw three figures coming out of the bushes. We stayed quiet, wondering if they were friends or enemies. Then, they came close enough to recognize then, and we saw that our friends had returned, and they had brought with them the boy from the house of horrors! That was you," Dandelion added. "You know the rest of the story from there."

Strawberry just stared at him, eyes wide. An awkward silence fell, followed by Dandelion waving a hand in front of Strawberry's face. Finally, Strawberry's eyes snapped back into focus, centred straight on Dandelion. "You really did all that?"

Dandelion nodded.

"Okay, wow." Strawberry took a deep breath. "That is amazing. I mean, I thought you guys were just runaways or something, like me. I've seen some do that, you know, just find a group and stay together, like Pepper, he did that, you know, before he came to the mansion, and stayed with his group three years. I thought you'd done something like that, I never thought you were actually orphans, not runaways, but you ran away from the orphanage, so are you still runaways, or is that-" Strawberry's stream of babble was cut off by Dandelion's hand over his mouth.

"You might not want to go on about the whole orphans thing, okay?" The blonde said. "For me, it's been four years since my parents died, and it still hurts. For Hazel and Fiver, it hasn't even been six months. Just, be nice."

Strawberry nodded frantically, Dandelion's hand still over his mouth. He mumbled something.

"What was that?" Dandelion took his hand away.

"Okay, yeah, I'll be nice. I'm sorry, I didn't even think about it." He laughed mournfully. "I guess I just keep getting surprised by how much I don't know about you guys. I'm sorry, I'll leave you alone now."

Dandelion watched the other boy walk off, his brow creased in thought. "Maybe I shouldn't have said anything."

Strawberry went into his room and flopped down on the bed, dejected. He thought finding out more about the others would make him feel better, but instead it just made him feel even more left out! They had a whole adventure together, escaping from their orphanage to find a better place, while he was just a runaway who had tagged along because he was too much of a coward to stay behind.

A knock on the doorframe pulled him out of his melancholy. Looking up, he saw Hazel standing there, looking hesitant. "Are you alright, Strawberry? You seem a bit upset, and the others said you were asking questions about us. Is something the matter?"

Strawberry smiled weakly. "Nothing's wrong, Hazel. Just curious."

"Okay." For a moment, it looked like Hazel was going to leave it at that, but then he came and sat down beside Strawberry on the bed. "Just because some of us have known each other longer than you doesn't mean you aren't as important. You know that, right?"

Strawberry blinked. Put it like that, it sounded so obvious. Slowly, a smile grew on his face. "Thanks, Hazel." Spontaneously, he turned to give the younger boy a hug. "I think I needed to hear that."


	6. Jammy Toast and Muddy Shoes

Pipkin was having a terrible morning.

Early in the morning he'd woken up terrified from a nightmare, then lay there, shivering in the darkness, scared of every shadow, until the sun rose and chased them away. At breakfast, they'd run out of jam, and he had to have just butter on his toast, then afterwards, he'd trod in a mud puddle that was much deeper than he thought, and was covered up to his ankle in mud.

The laughter from Dandelion and Acorn when they saw him was the last straw, and he ran back inside, kicking off his muddy shoes as he went, to the room he shared with Bigwig. Once there, he curled up on his bed, wrapped his arms around his knees, and rocked slowly back and forth, trying not to cry.

"They weren't big things," Pipkin whispered to himself, unshed tears choking his voice. " 'm a big kid now, I can't cry about jam and muddy shoes. They aren't 'portant!" He sniffled, a tear dripping out, then scowled, wiping the errant tear away. "No! I can't cry, I'm six! Big kids don't cry, an' six is big!"

"Hey, Pipkin?"

Pipkin hurriedly wiped away any trace of tears, then looked towards the doorway. Dandelion was there, leaning against the doorframe, looking apologetic.

"I'm really sorry, Pip, about laughing like that. We didn't know you'd get so upset about it."

Pipkin frowned, ducking his head back down into his arms. "I'm not upset."

Dandelion hesitated, then came further into the room. "It's okay if you are, you know."

"Well, I'm not!"

"Okay." Dandelion came closer, and sat down beside Pipkin on the bed. After a minute, Pipkin scooted closer, waited, then closer again. Dandelion held one arm up and Pipkin came closer still, cuddling up beside Dandelion. Dandelion held him closer, whispering into his ear, "I'm still sorry, even if you aren't upset."

A long moment later, and Dandelion looked down at Pipkin. "Ready go to back downstairs?"

Pipkin nodded shakily, and Dandelion grinned. "Good, because I left Acorn cleaning off your shoes, and he's probably done by now. Come on!" Dandelion ran back out of the room, and Pipkin, already feeling better, hurried after him to the bright day outside.


	7. Bale-ing Out

"Bigwig!"

Bigwig jolted forward, nearly knocked over by the sudden weight on his back. Looking over his shoulder, he was greeted with two bright green eyes in a little freckled face, smiling merrily at him. He automatically shifted to better support the younger boy, rearranging Pipkin to a more comfortable position. "Where'd you come from, Pip?"

Pipkin giggled. "I jumped from the hay bales. Were you surprised?"

Bigwig looked up at the intimidating tower of hay bales, stacked well over his head, and nearly three times the size of the six year old currently clinging to his back. "Of course I was surprised, you doofus! That's dangerous! How did you even get up there?"

Pipkin's grip around his shoulders got tighter just as his voice got smaller, fading into apprehension. "I climbed. It was easy, just like when I lived with Nan and Grandad. It wasn't really that dangerous, was it?"

Bigwig wavered, not sure what to say in the face of those eyes that look to him so trustingly, and the little chin digging dejectedly into his shoulder. "Nah, I guess it was alright," he finally said gruffly. "You can handle it."

The arms around his neck squeeze tight, this time in happiness. "Thanks, Bigwig! Do you want to see me do it again?"


	8. Sleep on the Stairs

Strawberry stumbled down the stairs, eyes still mostly closed. On the last step, he tripped over his (slightly too long) pyjamas, only barely managing to keep himself from hitting the ground.

Silver watched curiously, the solemn boy's lips turning up in a slight smile at the sight. Every morning, Strawberry did exactly this, and every morning, Silver would wait at the bottom of the stairs, ready to catch him if he fell. Most days, he managed to catch his balance again before he hit the ground, but after that one time he'd tripped and fallen all the way down the stairs, leaving bruises that lasted for weeks, Silver always watched.

Besides, he thought to himself as Strawberry passed with a sleepy groan of acknowledgement, his bed hair was hilarious.


	9. A Patch of Trouble

"Acorn!" Dandelion's shocked gasp turned the heads of all present in their direction.

Acorn stood at the edge of the forest which bordered Mr Frith's property, looking utterly miserable. Bits of greenery were caught in his clothes and hair, and a dark red rash ran down both arms and legs, here and there spotted with blood where he couldn't help scratching. He was still scratching now, fingers furiously worrying at one arm even as he stumbled towards them.

Dandelion loped over to meet him, grabbing his hand to stop the scratching. "What happened to you?" he asked, worry colouring his tone.

Acorn sullenly looked down, fingers twitching as if in protest to Dandelion's grip. "Just some bushes."

"Some bushes?" Bigwig questioned scornfully, the rest of the group now having gathered close enough to hear. "Looks more like you fell headfirst into a poison ivy patch."

A dark flush made its way up Acorn's cheeks.

Blackberry's jaw dropped open. "You really fell into a patch of poison ivy?" Acorn's silence spoke for itself. "But you know plants better than anyone, how did you not notice?"

Acorn's cheeks darkened further, and he mumbled something under his breath. Dandelion, closer than the rest, snorted.

"What's so funny?" Pipkin asked eagerly, sensing a story.

Acorn shook his head sharply, glaring furiously at Dandelion when he tried to speak.

Dandelion looked guiltily back, eyes bright with mirth, biting his lip to keep back the laughter. "I'm sorry, I have to!" he finally burst out, voice taking on the dramatic tone common to his stories.

"Our dear friend, self-proclaimed expert in botany, having a detailed knowledge of plants of all kinds, went traipsing through the woods, looking to expand his knowledge. He wanders far, out in the forest air, then hears a cracking from behind him. Of course, what else can he do but freeze, backing up slowly into the plants behind him.

"Cautiously, he watches the bushes, knowing that inside, a deadly enemy is hidden. The branches rustle, the shock sending our hero stumbling backwards, tripping and falling into the patch of poison ivy. Its evil work done, his nemesis reveals himself. It comes, crawling out of the bushes. It is-"

Dandelion stopped for a deep breath, the giggles he had been holding back throughout finally overwhelming him. "A bunny!" He barely managed to squeak it out before falling to the ground, face red from laughter.

As soon as the others deciphered his words, they began to laugh as well. "A bunny?" Bigwig gasped, holding onto a tree in his attempt to keep upright? "Acorn got spooked and tripped running from a bunny?"

Dandelion nodded, still too overcome to speak.

Acorn, whose eyes had been firmly fixed in the ground, raised them to glare at his friend. "I wasn't spooked! It just...startled me." Absently, his fingers began scratching at his arm again, further irritating it.

Dandelion caught the small movement, finally managing to stop giggling and pull himself up off the grass. He reached for Acorn's arm again but the shorter boy jerked away, sending a dark look in his direction. Dandelion stepped closer, lowering his voice so only the two of them could hear. "Are you okay? You're still scratching at that rash."

Acorn immediately pulled his hand away, clenching it into a fist. "I'm fine. It's just...itchy."

"Water might help. C'mon, let's see if we can find some cloths." Dandelion grabbed Acorn's hand and pulled him along, back towards the house, leaving the others still giggling in the grass behind them. Acorn let himself be dragged off, clenching and unclenching his hand in an attempt not to scratch.

When they got back to the house Dandelion headed straight for the laundry. It was where they all went to clean up after their games got too dirty, and he knew from experience that the bottom shelf of the closest cupboard to the door would be filled with ragged cloths of all kinds. Quickly grabbing a few, he held them under the tap, then pressed them against Acorn's arm.

Acorn let out a sigh of relief at the cool sensation. "That feels better." Dandelion flashed him a quick smile, grabbing another cloth and repeating the process.

After a few moments of silence, broken only by the running of the tap and the soft sighs of Acorn, Dandelion spoke again. "I'm sorry if I hurt you."

Acorn, busy picking off the small leaves and twigs still left in his clothes and hair, frowned quizzically at him, his previous annoyance forgotten in the relief of the cool cloths.

"With my story," Dandelion elaborated. "I wasn't making fun of you. I just thought it was really fun and wanted to turn it into a story."

"You always love your stories," Acorn gruffly said. He exchanged a smile with Dandelion, and the incident was forgotten.


	10. Checkers and Colds

An explosive sneeze from the doorway of their room caught the attention of Blackberry and Acorn, where Acorn was losing a game of checkers. Dandelion smiled sheepishly, pushing his pale blonde hair back from where it had fallen over his face while he sneezed. "Sorry. Just got a-" His eyes half closed as he fought back another sneeze. Successful, he continued hoarsely, "Got a cold."

"You sure it's just a cold?" Blackberry asked worriedly.

Acorn left his spot on the bed, just barely not managing to upset the board, and pressed the back of his hand to Dandelion's forehead. "He doesn't have a fever."

The relief in his voice matched Blackberry's relieved sigh. All three boys remembered far too vividly Hazel sick with a high fiver, their brave leader confused and shivering. None of them ever wanted that to happen again.

"So it probably is just a cold," Blackberry concluded.

Dandelion started to nod, but was cut off by more sneezes. "Dold you so." He rubbed his dripping nose against his wrist, then grimaced at the wet patch left on his sleeve. "Dat's really gross."

Acorn bit back a smile. "C'mon, sit down here. Watch us play, I need some tips."

Dandelion nodded, shuffling over to sit down on the bed next to Acorn. Curled up on his side, blond hair fanning out over the blankets, he looked barely older than Pipkin, certainly not the near-teen he actually was.

"Stay near the edge," he murmured, voice clogged, eyes already half closed with drowsiness. "Always works bedder dat way."

Acorn nodded solemnly, running his fingers through Dandelion's hair. Dandelion smiled softly. Dandelion was always very tactile, and fingers running through his hair was the one thing sure to relax him every time. This final push was the last thing he needed for him to relax fully into sleep.

Even as Dandelion's breathing, though still congested, evened out, Acorn kept softly stroking the older boy's hair, hand absentmindedly carding through the short locks as he considered his next move. He pushed his piece forward, eyes flicking triumphantly up at Blackberry, and only then realised Blackberry's eyes were on his hand's soft movements through golden hair. Acorn frowned, shoulders hunching in defensively, his hand stilling, though not retreating.

"Is his hair really that smooth?" Blackberry said quietly, breaking the stillness that had settled over the room, disturbed only by Dandelion's congested breathing.

Acorn laughed, struck by the humour of the question. He just as quickly covered his mouth, looking down at Dandelion and relieved to see him still asleep. "Seems so."

He resumed stroking through Dandelion's hair. "Maybe he washes it with something special or something. Like honey."

Blackberry wrinkled his nose. "That would never work. Honey is too sticky, it would just make a mess." His eyes glinted with sudden glee, making Acorn suddenly recall why the three of them were such good friends. "Maybe it's spiders. You know, for silkiness."

Acorn grinned widely at the fake innocence of Blackberry's tone. This would be fun. "Beetles, to make it shiny."

"Ants, to make it stronger."

"Worms, to make it longer."

Blackberry's grin took on a wicked edge, and Acorn knew that this one would be the best of them all, by far. He leant forward, ready to hear it -

Dandelion coughed, small at first, but enough to startle both boys. Then he shot upright, great whooping coughs coming interspersed with hoarse gasps for air. Dandelion's eyes streamed, nose running, his face full of panic as he desperately tried to breathe, but it only got worse.

"Water, now!" Blackberry yelled, startling Acorn from his shocked stupor. He scrambled off the bed and to the bathroom, hoping against hope that someone has left a glass there from last time they got up to get a drink. Miraculously, it was there, sitting beside the sink, and he quickly filled it up and returned, hearing Dandelion's coughing before he was even halfway back. It sounded worse than ever, and he started shoving the drink towards Dandelion before he even saw him. Dandelion took it and drank, coughing coming to a halt as he just guzzled the water like it would kill him if he didn't. Acorn shoved away the tiny part of his mind that said maybe it would.

Finally, _finally,_ Dandelion lowered the glass from his lips, and choked out, "I think I'm okay." It was followed by a series of coughs, but those, much to Acorn's relief, stopped quickly. As soon as they were done, Dandelion slumped back against the bed, curling both arms around his head and wincing.

"Headache?" Acorn asked, inwardly berating himself a moment later for how stupidly obvious that was.

Dandelion nodded, just a tiny movement of his head that nevertheless made his eyes clench even closer together. Blackberry helped him upright, leaning the taller boy onto a pile made of the pillows from all three beds, and brought the glass of water back over to him. Dandelion sipped it, slowly this time, his hands relaxing from their clenched positions. Finally, he opened his eyes again, sparing the other two a small smile.

"I'm okay now."

Even if Dandelion didn't still have lines of pain around the eyes he was just barely squinting open, his voice would be proof enough that no, he was not okay. Both his friends just stared at him, still too tense from his coughing fit to even pretend to believe him.

"If you go back to sleep right now, we won't tell Mr Frith you're sick," Blackberry finally decided.

Dandelion struggled off the pillows, propping himself up with one elbow as the other arm clutched at his head. "I'm fine, you don't have to tell him anything!" he pleaded.

Acorn scoffed. "You're not fine, you're being an idiot. Lie down already, just looking at you makes my head hurt."

Dandelion subsided onto the pillows, still cradling his head like it might fall apart, eyes once again tightly closed. "Fine," he whispered, "just don't tell Mr Frith. I'm not really sick, it's just this cough."

Acorn, unsure how to respond, resumed stroking Dandelion's hair, gratified when the older boy relaxed into it, muscles no longer as tense as before.

"Okay, we won't tell Mr Frith," Blackberry kept his tone as low as Dandelion's, but with considerably more force. "But you have to rest. No more talking, just sleep."

Dandelion grudgingly mumbled his agreement, by now mostly asleep under Acorn's soothing fingers. Acorn and Blackberry exchanged a long glance, then, with a small shrug, Blackberry picked up the checkers pieces which had been scattered by Dandelion's coughing fit. He turned to Acorn with a wry smile. "Checkers?"

Acorn spluttered out a laugh, and agreed.


	11. I'm Not Tired

"I'm not tired, H-" Fiver was cut off by a yawn, eyes closing and mouth stretching wide with the force of it. "I'm not tired," he stubbornly continued. Despite his insistence, he snuggled closer to Hazel, eyelids drooping and head nodding.

Hazel smiled fondly at him, safe in the knowledge that Fiver was too sleepy to be watching. "Well, I'm going to bed after this round anyway, so will you come with me?"

Fiver's nose scrunched thoughtfully. "I guess. I'm still not tired, though!" Another yawn broke through, this one catching on to Hazel as well.

"Okay. Still, one more round." Hazel nodded for Blackberry to start dealing, and the room descended into silence, broken only by the flick of cards passing and the occasional soft calling of numbers. Only a few of them were left around the table, with Dandelion and Strawberry finding other things to do, and Bigwig having already taken Pipkin off to bed, piggybacking the sleepy blonde and scowling at anyone who tried to wake him.

A few more minutes, and the round was over. As Silver carefully packed up the cards, returning them neatly to their drawer, Hazel tried to rouse his brother. "Fiver? The round is over, time for bed."

Fiver only mumbled indistinctly, more asleep than not.

Hazel looped one of Fiver's arms around his neck and heaved the younger boy to his feet. "Come on, Fiver. You can't fall asleep yet!" With Hazel taking most of Fiver's weight, they managed to get as far as the bottom of the stairs. Hazel stopped and looked up them, blearily trying to puzzle out a solution, but the connections weren't quite coming to his tiredness-befuddled brain.

A quiet voice from behind solved the puzzle for him. "You go up first, I'll carry Fiver."

Hazel turned around, recognising the silvery blonde hair even before he remembered the name to go with it. "You sure, Silver?" he asked, trying to hide a yawn. "You don't have to, I'll find a way."

Silver smiled quietly. "I know. I don't mind, he's only small."

He came up beside the other two and lifted one of Fiver's arms, placing it around his neck, then scooping the smaller boy into his arms. "Go ahead." He gestured Hazel up the stairs. "Fiver will be safe with me."

Hazel nodded gratefully, and started up the stairs, each step making his legs feel heavier, until he finally stumbled onto the top. He waited there for Silver, slumping against the wall. His eyes drifted closed. Surely it wouldn't matter if he slept in the hall, just this once?

A hand landing on his shoulder startled him back to wakefulness. His eyes snapped open, then seeing Silver, drooped again. Hazel blinked furiously, trying to stay awake. He needed to get Fiver to bed.

"This way," Silver whispered, his hand, still on Hazel's shoulder, steering him forwards. Mostly asleep, Hazel followed Silver's guidance.

Once inside the room, Hazel headed for Fiver's bed, shrugging off Silver's hand. "Fiver needs to go to bed," he tried to explain. "I have to take care of him, he's my little brother. I need to see him go to bed."

Silver nodded once. He laid Fiver on the bed, then stood back while Hazel pulled the covers over his brother, making sure he was comfortable, before crossing the room and getting in his own bed. Finally, he turned to leave, stopping in the doorway only a moment before exiting the room entirely.

In that moment, Hazel, nearly asleep, thought he heard him say, "You take care of him, we'll take care of you."


	12. Counting Cookies

Pipkin bent over the page, his slightly too long hair falling into his eyes and tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration. He jumped slightly as Hazel leant over his shoulder, breaking his concentration.

"What have you got there, Pipkin?" Hazel asked.

"Hannah said if I could tell her how many cookies she's made today, she would let me have one!" Pipkin explained. "But I don't know how."

"I used to help Fiver with his homework," Hazel said, sitting down beside him. "Maybe I can help you too?"

Pipkin happily shoved the paper over so Hazel could see, letting it all nicely in between them. He pointed to the first number on the page. "Look, see? She said she made twenty three in the first pan, so I put that on top, then eighteen in the second one, so I put that under it, but I don't know what goes next! I tried putting the three and the eight together, but it's too big!" His head slumped forward on to the table. "I'm never getting cookies," he moaned.

Hazel smiled at him, nudging his shoulder. "Of course you will. Look, I'll help you." He held up his hands, eight fingers upright. "See? I have eight fingers. How many more do I need to make ten?"

Pipkin peeked out curiously. "Two."

Hazel obligingly put up two more fingers. "And then we have a whole ten. You hold on to that for me, okay?" He put his hands over Pipkin's, who giggled, putting one of his fingers up.

"Then we have one left over, because we only used two and we had three. I'll hold that one." He held up one finger, and used it to point back down at the numbers on the page. "Now, we have more tens. One ten from the eighteen, which you can have," Pipkin held up another finger, "and then two more from twenty. Now, how many have we got now?"

"One, two, three, four tens," Pipkin counted off on his fingers, "and one more from you. That's...forty one!" He beamed at Hazel, delighted at figuring it out.

Hazel beamed back, filled with brotherly pride. "You did great, Pipkin! Hannah has to let you have your cookie now."

Pipkin considered for a moment, then shook his head, grabbing Hazel's hand and dragging him along with him into the kitchen. "Not without you!"


	13. Black Eyes, Bruises, and Bigwig

**Set Before Downs We Go.**

Bigwig stomped into the house, letting the door slam shut behind him. His mother wouldn't be home for hours yet, still at her job, which should give him time to -

"Bigwig? Is that you?" His mother came out of the bathroom, wiping her hands on her dress. "Mr Alverez closed the shop early, he's leaving for his daughter's wedding tomorrow, so he let us go home - Bigwig! What happened to you?" She gathered him close, brushing back his hair to examine the scrape running across his cheek, and the bruising starting to appear around his eye.

Bigwig stood still and let her examine him, before turning away with typical nine year old impatience. "It isn't a big deal, mum. Just some boys at school."

"Yes, it is a big deal! They should not be hitting you, I don't care who they are!" She stood up and headed for the kitchen. "Tell me their names, I'm calling their parents."

"No, don't do that!" Bigwig pulled on her sleeve, holding her back.

She crossed her arms. "And why not? If they hit you, they should pay for it!"

He looked down at his feet. "I hit them first."

"Bigwig...!"

His head shot up, eyes filled with anger. "They deserved it! They wouldn't believe you were my mum, said you weren't old enough. Then when I told them you were, they started laughing, and calling you names! They said you were-" He bit the words off in the face of his mother's flinch. "Those thick headed idiots called you names, and you don't deserve that. So I hit 'em."

"Oh, Thayli..." She sunk to her knees on the kitchen floor, pulling him into her arms. "I've been called a lot worse, by people a lot bigger and older than those bullies."

Bigwig scowled, eyes filling with angry tears. "That doesn't make it right. Just because someone bigger did it doesn't mean it's okay."

His mother made a soft noise, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. "I know. Believe me, I know. But Thayli, look at me," she tilted his eyes up to met hers, "my Thayli, you can't fight them all. There will always be people out there who call names, who say terrible things. You can't fight them all. Alright, Thayli?"

Bigwig begrudgingly nodded. Inside, though, he was thinking, " _Maybe I can't fight them all, but I can try_."


	14. A Little Brother's Help

Work Text:

"Fiver, not now, alright?" Hazel winced, curling further into the arm of the lounge.

Fiver sat down beside his brother, frustrated that Hazel wouldn't just admit to his very obvious headache. It didn't happen very often, but sometimes Hazel would get painful migraines that lasted for hours, him curled up somewhere with his head under a pillow while Fiver pretended he had no idea what was going on.

It used to be, their mother would come sit with him, running a hand through his hair and singing him a song, while their father made tea. But now their parents were gone, with no mother to sing, and no father to claim that tea cured everything. Hazel was all Fiver had left, and he wasn't going to let his brother down.

Fiver went into the kitchen, standing on his tiptoes to open the cupboard where he knew Hannah kept the cups. He took out a mug, the big black one that would barely fit in his hands, and carefully lifted it down from the shelf. He couldn't remember what tea their dad always used, so he just grabbed a teabag out of the big box Hannah kept on the shelf. Teas couldn't be that different, right?

Now he just had to heat up some water. Their dad always used the kettle, and so did Miss Hannah, but he didn't know how. Instead he just turned on the hot tap as far as it would go, letting the water warm up for a bit before sticking his finger under it. Immediately, he drew his finger back and stuck it in his mouth to cool it. That water was hot! He turned it down a bit, then filled the mug and plopped the teabag in.

Carefully balancing the mug in both hands, Fiver carried it out of the kitchen and into the main room, where Hazel was still curled into the lounge. "I brought you tea," he said quietly, setting the mug down. "I know it's not dad's, but maybe it will help?"

Hazel slowly sat up, lines of pain around his eyes still very visible, and reached for the mug. "Thanks Fiver," he said, cradling it gently. He didn't drink any yet, but just having the mug there seemed to help. Still, Fiver wanted to do more.

"Lie down," he ordered. Hazel blinked dumbly at him. Sighing loudly in frustration, he pushed Hazel back down onto the lounge, barely giving him the time to replace the mug on the table.

"Now stay there." He waited until Hazel nodded, then sat down beside him, scrounging through his memory to try and find that old familiar song. Bits and pieces came back to him, and he sang them quietly, watching as Hazel relaxed more and more, the lines around his eyes slowly easing away. Still softly singing, he curled up on the lounge beside his brother. Sometimes, it was nice to know he could help Hazel too.


	15. Morning Meetings

**Chronologically, this chapter happens right after Downs We Go. This is actually one of the first stories I wrote after finishing it, it's just taken me this long to get it done!**

It seemed like only minutes after falling asleep that Hazel was woken abruptly by his bed suddenly dipping. His eyes snapping open as he shot upright, he looked around in alarm, then heard giggles coming from beside him. He fell back to the bed, closing his eyes. "Tell me it's morning," he groaned dramatically.

He heard more giggling, then Fiver said innocently, "It's morning, Hazel."

He opened his eyes and pretended to scowl at Fiver and Pipkin, the apparent source of the giggles. "And why did you think jumping on my bed was a good way to wake me up?"

"Because you woke up." Fiver smiled sweetly at him.

Pipkin started to look shamefaced. "Sorry, Hazel. Fiver said we could. Please don't be mad!"

At that, Hazel's reserve broke, and he laughed at them both. "I'm not mad, Pipkin, not too much, anyway. It's not the first time Fiver has woken me like that, and it likely won't be the last."

Fiver grinned at him. "Nope!"

"So you don't mind?" Pipkin asked shyly.

"No, I don't mind. I probably would have had to get up soon anyway." He leaned closer to them. "You know who else needs to be woken up?" Two faces looked at him, eyes wide in anticipation. "Bigwig."

Their smiles turning mischievious, both boys rushed out of the room, leaving Hazel to get out of bed and hurry after them.

Even with the scant few seconds delay he had in following, by the time he was outside the room, he could already hear Bigwig's furious shouts and the younger boys' delighted giggles. Stepping into sight, he hastily covered his smile and instead looked stern. "And what do you two think you are doing?"

At the sight of him, Fiver let out a shriek of laugher and ran towards him, then at the last moment ducked under the his arm and ran down the hallway. Stopping just long enough to glare Pipkin into staying still, Hazel took off after his brother. He raced after Fiver, the early morning light shining on them through the tall windows. He heard Fiver clattering down the stairs, then a thud and a crash, like something heavy had fallen to the floor.

As it turned out, something heavy had fallen to the floor, a small, fortunately unbroken vase, and Fiver was looking at it nervously, the last traces of mirth fading from his face. "Do you think I'll get in trouble?" he said hesitantly.

Hazel bit his lip nervously, looking at the mess of flowers and water on the floor. "I don't know." Seeing how little this reassured his brother, he continued more confidently, "Mr Frith said we could stay just yesterday, he wouldn't make us leave already. It's not that big a mess. The vase didn't even break."

"But what if it's important?"

"Then we have to say sorry." He took Fiver's hand, and started walking down the stairs towards the kitchen, where he guessed Mr Frith was having breakfast. "C'mon Fiver, we have to tell Mr Frith."

Fiver tugged against his grip. "Do we have to do it now?"

"Sooner the better."

"But what if he sends us away?"

"Then we have more time to find somewhere else before nightfall." Fiver kept tugging. Hazel stopped, and crouched down to look him in the eyes. "Fiver, Mr Frith isn't going to send us away just over a vase."

Fiver looked down. "But he might, and it would be my fault."

"It wouldn't be your fault, Fiver." Hazel waited for Fiver's gaze to meet his again. "If Mr Frith won't let us stay here just because you broke a vase, then he's being mean, and we probably wouldn't want to live here anyway." He nodded decisively.

Fiver giggled, some of the anxiety fading from his eyes. Hazel started walking again, and Fiver went along willingly.

As they drew closer to the kitchen, both boys slowed, the sound of kitchenware clanking betraying the presence of someone. "Are you sure it will be okay?" Fiver whispered, clinging tightly to his brother.

Hazel didn't answer him, but walked forward into the kitchen, calling hesitantly, "Mr Frith?"

No one answered. The clanking sounds were louder than ever, and coming from the other side of the the open door in the corner. A grunt was followed by the loudest crash yet, echoed through the kitchen and causing both boys to put their hands over their ears, shying away from the noise. When they looked back, a woman was standing there, hefting the largest saucepan they'd ever seen. "Who are you two, and how did you get in here?"

Hazel hesitantly stepped forward, keeping one eye on the enormous pan. "We were wandering, and found here, and Mr. Frith said-"

The woman scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Mr Frith said you could stay the night and head home in the morning, I suppose? O' course he did. That man's got a soft spot for all kids, I tell ya. Goin' ta ruin him some day. Well, might as well eat some breakfast first. Sit down, sit down. I'll have something ready for ya soon." She shooed them over to the counter, and both boys, suitably cowed, obeyed.

"Do you like eggs?" she asked suddenly.

Fiver and Hazel just stared at her, still too surprised at their eventful morning to speak.

"I'm only askin' because ya might as well get a good breakfast before leavin'," she warned.

Hazel decided this was the time to speak up. "Um, missus-"

"That's Miss Hannah to ya."

"Miss Hannah, Mr Frith said we could stay here." She didn't respond, just continued bustling around the kitchen. "For as long as we wanted. He said he liked having us here."

This time Hannah paused, knife held in the air with a piece of onion still sticking to it. The boys watched nervously. Then Hannah shook her head and went back to her chopping board, muttering, "O' course he'd just take in a couple of boys. Probably never even thought about it. More mouths to feed, more cleanin' to do." She looked up at them, meeting their eyes with a stern gaze. "You two'll be helping with the cleanin', I hope ya know. I know what little boys are like."

Hazel bit his lip. "There are more than two of us."

"Oh." She switched out the onions for potatoes then resumed cutting. "Are you hidin' another little brother upstairs then?"

"How did you know we were brothers?" Fiver piped up, derailing the conversation.

Hannah chuckled. "As soon as you two saw me, that big brother of yours pushed you behind him quick as anything. You're brothers, alright." She winked at him. "Even your hair's the same!"

While Fiver pulled down a lock of hair, examining it like he would find ' _brother of Hazel_ ' stamped on every strand, Hazel silently mused. He didn't even remember pulling Fiver behind him, he just knew that this woman was someone strange, and strangers can't be trusted.

"Ya might as well call him down too," Hannah said, and Hazel belatedly realised he still hadn't corrected her.

"It's not a little brother."

"A little sister then?" Hannah shrugged, cutting the last of the potatoes. "Well, she'll still need to eat."

"No, it's our friends," Hazel looked down, voice quieting. "They're all upstairs. They'll probably come down soon."

"All?" Hannah's voice was soft, almost dangerous. "How many is all?"

"There's nine of us," Hazel bravely told her. "With me and Fiver."

Hannah's face grew red. "Nine of you! Nine new mouths to feed, and he tells me nothing! That-" Words escaped her, face rapidly darkening, her mouth opening and closing as she searched for an appropriate word.

Pipkin chose this unfortunate moment to come tumbling into the room.

"Pipkin!" Hazel hissed. Pipkin hurried to his side. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't come back." Hazel's irritation abruptly went out. "You went chasing after Fiver, and tol' me to stay there, but you never came back, so I came to find you."

Hazel reached down and, with Fiver's assistance, helped Pipkin onto the stool beside him, both boys squished almost uncomfortably close despite Pipkin's small size. "I'm sorry, Pipkin. I hadn't thought about you waiting there for me."

This conversation, carried out in hushed whispers, had still been enough to catch Hannah's attention, diverting her from her frustration. "So who's this?" she asked, traces of anger still in her voice.

Pipkin's eyes grew wide. He scooted to the back of the chair, pushing Hazel forward.

"This is Pipkin," Hazel told her.

"And I supposed he'll be needin' breakfast too, will he?" Pipkin, faced by Hannah's scrutinising look, hardly dared to nod. "Well, no one's gone hungry in my kitchen yet, and I won't be startin' now."

Her irritation seemingly faded, Hannah turned back to making breakfast. It was only a few minutes before the smell of cooked food was drifting through the air, an irresistible temptation to the boys just waking upstairs.

Soon there was a sound of racing feet, as the other boys came thundering down the stairs, only to stop short at the sight of a short woman with a ferocious air glaring them all into silence.

"I am making breakfast, and until I'm finished, the only words I better 'ear out of ya are 'Yes, Miss Hannah. Is that clear?"

A couple of the boys gulped. They all, even Bigwig and Silver who could see over the top of her head, meekly replied, "Yes, Miss Hannah."

She nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now go take a seat, and one of you can grab some plates from the cupboard, if you can do it without breakin' 'em."

A curiously silent scuffling match broke out, each of the boys determined not to be the one forced into the kitchen with the volatile Miss Hannah. Strawberry lost. He slumped into the kitchen, brushing out his clothes and glowering back at the others. Fiver, Hazel and Pipkin watched amusedly, secure in their seats, as Strawberry looked bewilderedly around the kitchen.

Hazel started as Silver tapped him on the shoulder. _Cowslip's horror house_ , he mouthed. With that, it suddenly made sense. There hadn't been a kitchen at that place, or at least if there had, Hazel hadn't seen it. From what Cowslip had said, all their food was delivered, so no one had to cook. Who knew how long it had been since Strawberry was last in a kitchen?

He made to move from his seat and help Strawberry, but found that Silver was already there, showing the younger boy where to find the plates, and then carrying the majority himself. The sight made Hazel smile. Silver was rather reserved usually, from what little he knew of the older boy, so it was good to see him being friendly, even more so that it was to Strawberry, who was so new to their group.

"Grab a plate, boys, and I'll serve ya some breakfast." For the second time that morning, Hannah's voice broke Hazel out of his thoughts. "Only take what you'll eat, mind. There's no wasted food in my kitchen!"

"I think we could eat all of it, Miss Hannah," Dandelion murmured, flashing her a brilliant smile when she turned in his direction.

Emboldened by Hannah's lack of rebuke, Acorn joined in. "I haven't seen this much food in years!"

"Get in line, boys," Bigwig called sternly. "Let's have some order here."

"And I'm guessing you think you'll go first?" Strawberry asked, still irritated at being the one to carry the plates in.

Before Bigwig could answer, Blackberry chimed in. "Hazel, Fiver and Pipkin were here first, they should go first."

Fiver and Pipkin cheered, dragging Hazel with them to the front of the line before he could even think of protesting, the others falling into place behind them. The line moved quickly, each of the boys taking heaping platefuls of the steaming hot dishes, thrilled at the sight of so much food after so long without.

It only took minutes for the kitchen to be silent but for the sound of chewing and cutlery scraping against plates.

Finally, Fiver pushed his plate away. "I don't think I could eat another bite!"

"Me neither," Pipkin echoed, also pushing away his plate.

"Good!" Hannah called from the kitchen. "Might put some meat on those skinny bones of yours! Now if you're all done, come in here and starting washing these plates." Both boys hastily did as they were told.

"If you're going to be hanging around," Hannah muttered loud enough for all of them to hear, "might as well get some good work out of ya!"

Hazel smiled. Maybe they really could stay here after all.


	16. Cold or Allergies?

**This doesn't feel quite up to my usual standard, but it's been a while since I've posted so I wanted to add this. I hope you enjoy it anyway!**

"'M not sick," Bigwig said, sniffling loudly and wiping at his dripping nose. "Just got a touch of allergies, that's all."

"You're not allergic to anything, Bigwig," Hazel said patiently. Fiver stood behind him, trying, though not very hard, to hide his giggles.

Bigwig puffed himself up, an effect rather ruined by the sneezing it invoked. When it finally died down, he asked, "Well, how do you know? Maybe I have a terrible dust allergy."

"I told him," Silver volunteered. He flinched as Bigwig whirled on him, but continued anyway. "It was in your file at Sandleford. You have no known allergies."

Bigwig pounced on that. "Hear that, Hazel? No _known_ allergies. Maybe I have allergies you just don't know of yet!"

"Alright," Hazel agreed peaceably. "Maybe they are just allergies. Either way, you're sneezing and sniffling loud enough to call down Frith! You can stay inside for a bit, while the rest of us finish the work."

"Fine, but just because you asked!" Bigwig grumbled. "And I'm still not sick! They're just allergies."

He stomped up the stairs to his bedroom, hearing Hazel and Fiver behind him continuing on the cleaning.

"Bigwig!"

He looked down, and there was a small blond head bobbing along beside him. "What are you doing, Pipkin?"

"Hazel said I should come with you, so I could get something if you needed it. Do you need something?"

A slow grin began to dawn over Bigwig's face. "You know what, lad? I just might..." Perhaps some bed rest wouldn't be so bad after all.


End file.
